


Cyclical Consequence

by TabbySeraph



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Fanfiction, Mental Health Issues, Not A Game AU, POV Third Person Plural, Post-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidality, Unreliable narrator?, Whump, accurate to each POV but ya know how mental illness and stuff is, got some abuse vibes in here but it's mostly a mix of negative perspective and misguided help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbySeraph/pseuds/TabbySeraph
Summary: Sometimes the bandaid needs to come off to heal properly, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt. Nor that undue roughness won't cause its own problems in the process. Such as the lingering ache from getting a first-hand experience in just how much your crush wants to kill you, even if it's kinda deserved.I got inspired by a now-deleted fic & this aligns chronologically with it, but it should be understandable on its own as well. Hope the author of that sees this one (and brings their stuff back if they're up to it)
Relationships: Benry (HLVRAI) & Gordon Freeman (HLVRAI)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Cyclical Consequence

How long has it been? The surge and recession of light from the window may indicate the passing of days, but that's no good measurement without keeping an eye on it. And Benry's already spent enough time staring at that wall.

He doesn't know if Tommy knows what really happened. They haven't discussed the Gordon situation at all, and neither really wants to bring it up to the other. But Benry does know where he left his phone, which had disappeared the next day and couldn't be found anywhere. Silent, but definitely a judgement, a punishment. A sign that he knows.

Knowing that Benry hadn't listened when told to give Gordon space. That he somehow got his number, called him anyways. The reason Gordon was found trying to beat him into the floorboards of Tommy's house. At least Dr. Coomer stopped him before Tommy would need to clean much of his blood off the floor again. Or maybe an extra bit of cleaning, even less than before, would have been better than continuing to deal with Benry himself.

Benry curls further in on himself, wishing he still had his phone. A way to talk to Forzen, the one person he could still talk to without the same looming pressure. At least, hopefully he doesn't know. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he'd just avoid the topic too, or Benry altogether.

He even could have reached out to Forzen instead of Gordon, avoided this, but his stupid heart had made a desperate attempt to pretend things were okay. He could have just been chilling with Forzen right now, could have listened to Tommy and waited, could have just believed Gordon's shouted intent to get rid of him that he overheard from Tommy's phone. But he chose Gordon, and Gordon didn't even waste a moment trying to make good on his claims. Now everyone knows.

He scoffs slightly, a pained smile pressed into the sheets. Of course. One wrong attempt to reach out to someone else ends in this, everyone else's patience pushed over the edge, leaving him isolated with nobody to lean on at all. No, not isolated. Trapped. Constantly being watched, but nobody tries to act like friends anymore. Bubby's cold stares seem a bit different, but Benry can't bear to keep looking, afraid of what sort of judgement can be found hiding in there. Dr. Coomer had lost some of his persistent cheer, of course. Darnold would still bring over nice drinks, offering some, but doesn't he always? He's probably just nice to everyone. And, there's Tommy.

Tommy, who has barely talked to him at all since then. No longer even being the one to check on his wounds, but still watching.   
Often doing things close by, for a bit too long, not speaking a word. Not since the day after, when Benry just wanted to rest and not worry about being questioned, when Tommy's attempts at conversation were mostly brushed off. Guess he finally realized there wasn't anyone worth talking to.

  
But, Tommy still listens. Too much. Always around in the house, yet it remains so quiet. Making sure he can more clearly hear what's happening in the other rooms.

Sometimes Benry has tried turning the sound up on games, just for an extra moment of not having his every move scrutinized. Until he set the controller down, turning around to find Tommy standing there, watching. Well, quickly turning to go head into the kitchen instead, but he was still _there_. It was worse to find out he was still unknowingly being watched.

At least Tommy would still back off sometimes, some of the others ushering him out of the house to take a break. From dealing with Benry. Switching hands over to someone else who would keep watch in his absence. Like Bubby, today.

Bubby, who had gotten angry when Benry didn't want to get up from bed to eat, storming off out of sight. Just another moment of bothering everyone. Even if they leave him alone, not having to deal with him for a while, he's still taking up space that they will wander into again.

He really should just leave, prevent those encounters. There's surely somewhere else to end up, somewhere he won't be causing problems. Forzen? No; he would know something is up. He would figure out that the most recent call was just to get Gordon's number out of him behind Tommy's back. Those nice calls, hours of just chatting would be gone too.

As if things weren't already wrong enough, in a way that itches under his skin. A persistent listlessness, yet a discomforting energy thrumming under his skin, clashing in an even more confusing way. If only that could be gotten away from too.

Benry rolls onto his stomach, huffing into the pillow. With the loss of his powers, it's not like he can do much about anything anyways. Couldn't just walk out through the walls without notice, couldn't just change things into something more comfortable, couldn't just teleport somewhere else, couldn't... respawn?

There was that odd place, that near-void, that Tommy pulled him out of after everything. Someplace that wasn't part of his powers, someplace he didn't belong in, someplace that held onto him, weak but alive. Not part of death, not part of respawning. Someplace that probably wouldn't catch him again.

An angry voice from the other room, muffled, makes Benry bristle. Bubby, probably on the phone, probably complaining about him. Definitely not something worth eavesdropping on, even if he felt like getting up in the first place. What does get him moving is a stab of pain, sitting up in confusion, sluggish to figure out the cause. But it doesn't take long to notice his hand again picking at the bandages of his other arm, getting close to sensitive wounds.

Just another problem, a fault of his own. Wounds he can no longer fix, a marred body he can't get away from, even though he tried, as if he could tear it down and leave it behind.

_Though that just wasn't enough._

Benry shakes his head. The sharp voice in the other room is too loud. The room is too quiet. His head is full of unpleasant noise, indiscernible. Not wanting to discern it. But what is clear is that he wants to get away, in some way. Standing in frustration at another sting in one of his arms, too much at once. Looking at the slowly-dimming window, an end to the day, one day amidst the endless flow, time sparsely marked only by negative events.

How do you get away from something within yourself? Running doesn't work, but instinct demands it anyways. It's something, even if that something doesn't have a true goal.

The window unlatches and opens, quieter than the voice in the other room.

* * *

Gordon stares down at his phone. Finding out that Benry really had re-appeared was quite a shock, and there's definitely more info around that situation that he should get his hands on. But, given his recent... performance, Gordon has a feeling that information might not be forthcoming. Even though he deserves to know what the hell is going on, especially with someone like _that_ on the loose.

Dr. Coomer can be a wealth of information but is unreliable, and it would definitely be like talking to a brick wall if he had decided not to divulge. Bubby might let information slip out even if he isn't planning to share, but he's bound to start some sort of argument and Gordon is _not_ in the mood. Tommy is the best bet for the most info, especially since Benry is apparently living with him, but he might also be the least inclined to let Gordon know.

Tommy's actions aren't making any sense. Keeping someone like _Benry_ of all people in his house? Bubby had even quipped about Tommy staying home and making sure Gordon doesn't get in. And that's on top of how he's already been hiding Benry's presence from him for months, lying about not having seen him when he had made a panicked call about something feeling off, feeling like Benry had re-appeared.

But Tommy's a good guy, he must have some unrelated reason for all this, even if it kind of hurts. The current house-guarding probably isn't related to Gorodn either, just that he gets to hear about it now that he knows about Benry anyways. There's probably some more BS that Benry dredged up, as always. Probably has something to do with however Benry got those horrid injuries on his arms, skin shredded and some bone visible.

Gordon nearly jumps out of his skin as the phone buzzes in his hand, breaking the stillness. A text from Dr. Coomer?

"HELLO, Gordon! Benry is Missing! Don't worry, we are all Looking!"

That's... not good? Gordon isn't quite sure what to make of that info. If he's gone, _good_. But, he's bound to still be somewhere. And something feels off. Must be concern about the threat being unaccounted for. Benry on the loose.

Gordon sets the phone down, pacing. He should just try to ignore this, right? It's all a mess, and it shouldn't have to be _his_ mess, despite how it gnaws at him. And how he feels like he'll likely wear a groove into the carpet before he can banish the situation from his head, at least while just circling around in this little room.

He needs something else, something that doesn't require thought but also isn't just the room spinning around him. Interlocking his fingers and squeezing, he stop sto stare at the TV. Something idle, but something that still has enough detail to its contents that his lack of attention will let his mind wander away completely. If he could even decide on anything to try to watch in the first place, and sit still as well. He wants to keep walking. Outside?

Yeah, a walk outside would clear his head. It would help him keep watch in the meanwhile too. Can't end up with another surprise Benry if he finds him first.

* * *

The night is quiet, almost nobody out. It is nice to be out in the open without the worry of judgemental eyes, Gordon thinks. He had almost fully forgotten his prior stress when he steps onto a pedestrian overpass, barely paying attention before suddenly noticing someone is sitting on the edge, beyond the railing. Benry.

Benry, hazily looking out at the cars flowing along the road, looking too relaxed for his position, yet one hand still holds a pillar of the railing in a tight grip.

Gordon freezes, brain trying to catch up. The guy continues to do things at inopportune moments, such as showing up right as he had managed to put Benry out of his mind. But it's happening now anyways, so Gordon takes a breath and steels himself, walking closer.

"Benry." He puts as much of a judgemental tone into his voice as he can muster, yet something about the situation still throws him off, becoming more of a blunt accusation. Benry doesn't react, and that just re-ignites old frustrations, sneering at the back of his head.

"You—" Gordon hisses, "This is just another one of your games to fuck with me, isn't it! And what, did you trick the others into going along with whatever this is?" Benry subtly flinches, and it isn't as satisfying as it should be. Gordon's frustration simmers, prodded along by his own muddled feelings, which he wishes would just settle down. "I should just end this now."

"Then go ahead, man." Gordon freezes, that inconvenient uncertainty trying to worm its way to the front of his mind. At the pause, Benry adds on. "What, you scared of ol' Benry now? You wouldn't even need to best me in a fair fight here, I'm already cornered."

Gordon grits his teeth, standing his ground, against both his thoughts and the request. "I don't care about a fair fight. You never played fair in the first place!" Too much frustration, and it needs a solution, needs somewhere to go, Gordon growling out his thoughts. "The only thing that matters is getting rid of you."

Benry tilts his head back against the bars, but still doesn't move otherwise. "A push would be quick, it wouldn't give my self-preservation time to kick in like before, you could get it over with immediately." He slowly unwinds his grip on the fence, Gordon tensing up as his hand moves. Slipping it into his pocket and pulling out a PSP, he stretches his arm out and sets it down on the bridge, almost out of reach.

Gordon doesn't like that. Gordon also doesn't like that Benry is still doing things he doesn't understand, muddling the clarity of the situation, mirroring his usual attempts to rile him up. "What was that? You—" Gordon briefly pauses, trying to rationalize the situation. "You set your PSP off to the side. What, did you think your attitude is gonna intimidate me?" That's like confidently setting a breakable possession off to the side before a fight, right? A snide remark will make this more like the usual, right?

Benry is silent.

This is still a fight, right?

Whatever it is, his patience is frayed, and his thoughts are becoming more unclear by the second. "Answer me."

Benry is quieter, this time. "Can you bring that back to Tommy please and thanks. Just say you found it. At least it wouldn't be money wasted on me if he gets it back."

Gordon doesn't like this either, and it's getting harder to ignore. But he can't just back out of the situation. Shouldn't turn your back on a threat, of course. And part of him whispers that it feels wrong to leave this situation as it is. For whatever reason. But he does know his answer here. Probably. "No."

Benry shifts like he's surprised, about to turn around, but resists the temptation. With a sigh, his shoulders slump again. "Gordon Meanman. You probably don't even want my stuff anyways. Maybe someone else will find it before it gets damaged though."

"That's— That's not what I was saying." Gordon huffs, but not with the same frustration as before. Why is some of the tension leaving? "I'm not going to push you." Guess that's settled then, now that the words are out of his mouth, before they were even fully acknowledged in his head.

Benry is silent for too long, and Gordon shifts uncomfortably. This is not how he expected any of this to go, whatever _this_ is. Which he also doesn't want to think about, but the silence is getting to be too much. Gordon takes in a deep breath in preparation to figure out something to say, but before he can speak, Benry does. "Why?"

That's worse than the silence. Tripping over his thoughts and sputtering for a moment, Gordon tries to ignore the implications, don't bother thinking about it, and goes for detached logic. "If I _did_ push you over then it would just hurt others, there are people in those cars, it would be like throwing a big rock right at them. And nobody would want to see it happen either."

Benry is silent again, thankfully. That answer worked. He moves and Gordon tenses again, but he just grasps the railing and climbs back over, slipping his PSP into his pocket while looking oddly, disappointed? Gordon doesn't like that everything that happens here is unpleasant. And what prompted Benry to get up? He was right there on the edge the whole time, just needing a little push to be over the threshold, only getting up after the mention of others' safety. Not his own—

Oh. Now that's clear enough that he can't ignore _knowing_ , and it chills him. And brings even more confusion. It was supposed to be simple to get things over with, to remove this guy who kept doing major harm, who potentially still could if he felt like it, for whatever reason. He did wish to know what the hell Benry was even thinking at times, especially behind the heckling and goading, but _this_ definitely isn't what he would have thought, expected, wanted behind any of it. Especially from a guy who seemed practically immune to everything, including physical damage.

Well, more like he had little to no reaction to it, before. He could recover just fine, no matter the amount of damage he took. Yeah, he wasn't immune, he was just good at handling it. Then physical damage is different from mental damage, and technically there's no way to verify a lack of mental impact...

Not to mention his arms. Even if a human wouldn't be casually walking around with that degree of damage, what he saw under those bandages wasn't something Benry would've had before, at least not far beyond the moment it happened, not long enough to warrant bandaging.

Gordon becomes aware that he had just been standing there when Benry's eyes meet his, a brief look before darting back down at the ground while he leans against the railing. There's a lot to think about, and this isn't something he wants to deal with right now. He just knows he'd greatly prefer they both get off the bridge. But something needs to happen, or they'll be stuck awkwardly facing each other for a while.

As if on cue, Benry's stomach growls, and it's easy to figure out something to do. Gordon switches his thoughts to re-orienting himself in the world, remembering exactly where he is. Remembering there's a convenience store close by.

"Come." He takes a step down the path, and gestures for Benry to follow. He gets an indiscernible look in response, rapidly shifting through blank, confusion, and more. Both look at each other, and after a moment, Benry follows.

* * *

Thankfully, the lot is empty as they walk up, finding a bench. "Sit. Stay." Benry takes a moment, then does sit, unnervingly compliant. But at least it makes things easier for now. All Gordon needs to do is follow along with whatever tasks come up, this mess can be thought through later, dealt with later.

"Just... don't act weird if anyone comes by. Don't draw attention." Anything else? Glancing down at him, the bandaging on his arms could probably be shrugged off as a personal injury without getting too much questioning, and Benry sure is good at bullshitting conversation enough that anyone nosy would just stop asking. But. "Don't let those bandages come off."

Those injuries would definitely raise some alarms, even if the guy didn't have blue blood. Exposed bones and shredded flesh aren't something people typically just walk around showing off. Gordon grimaces as he turns towards the door. Seeing that sure explained why Benry had cried out so much from just the tight grip on his arm before. The satisfaction of the situation somehow being tainted after the fact, a disgusting feeling twisting in his gut the more he thought about it.

He hadn't even really fought back, beyond the initial bite. The state of his arms must have stopped him from doing much, of course. There's no way someone as scared as he acted wouldn't fight back, right? No, not scared, just... being like he should have been in that situation. The way Gordon wanted. It felt good in the moment, if he ignored the contents of the begging and pleading. Actually, Gordon would rather just not think of that.

Back to the arms. Those were probably the reason all that feels thrown off too. Stupid confounding factors skewing the situation away from the simple revenge & problem-removal situation. Would have been fine if it wasn't for that prior injury. Looking like someone had almost done his job for him by the time he found Benry. Messing his own plans up, it would have been the end of it and he never would've needed to think about it again.

Gordon slows to a stop, hand on the door. What _is_ the plan now? He kind of expected to get it over and done with, or maybe just get tormented more, only to wind up in... this scenario. Which currently included buying snacks in the middle of the night for a guy who tried to kill him. Who he also tried to kill recently. Who he walked away from after being pulled off of the first time, something feeling too off to continue his tirade once the initial bout of anger (and fear) died down. Who he then didn't kill with this... chance. Which was also unpleasant.

"Bro, you good?" Benry wasn't really sure how this would go, why Gordon was dragging him around instead of just getting things over with, but he's pretty sure Gordon just staring at a door wasn't part of the plan. Which seems more likely as Gordon just blinks a few times, shaking his head and gripping the door handle.

"... Maybe." Gordon decides those thoughts are for later, when he can think more clearly. Food time now. It couldn't go wrong to just, put things off for a bit. Just spend a bit of time browsing the shelves without much thinking.

The door swings closed. "Wha" Benry breathes out, confusion escaping in its own noise not meant for anyone. That wasn't any sort of answer he had expected. Probably getting pissy again, being snide at Benry as he was broken out of his trance. Maybe even like before, hurriedly going to the default of saying he's good. Benry gives a weak huff out his nose. Gordon Goodman. Never bothering to really answer.

But, that answer of "maybe". What was that? It wasn't snappy, it wasn't sardonic, it wasn't anything Benry could really see from him. It was, soft? After everything that happened, the things he'd done to Gordon? Why? It must have been a true answer, but what did it _mean_?

... Wait, Gordon was feeling _soft_ around him!? Not wary, not angry, but, soft? Why!? _That's not right!_

Benry flinches as a car passes by, headlights bright as they sweep by. Notices the dull ache where his palms and fingers tightly grip the edge of the bench. He unclenches his hands, uncurls from the position he never realized he was falling into, tries to breathe more steadily. He can't let Gordon see him like this. He shouldn't be thinking like that. He can't be _vulnerable_.

He can't. He shouldn't entertain that idea. That things would maybe be fine. That he and Gordon might still have a connection, no matter how tiny and fragile it is. It _will_ break, and he'll just be hurt again if he thinks it won't. There are no connections, just attempts at reaching out that meet jagged edges. He's alone.

Along on a convenience store bench in the middle of the night, sitting in his own little pool of light amidst the rest of the darkened world.

Alone, in a new place. Sucking in a deep breath, trying to dispel the discomforting pressure in his chest, feeling the bite of his prior grip fade from his skin, the grooves of the bench under his palms. Resigning to now existing in this little spot, coated in a slight breeze and the white noise of the night. Different from the stillness of the house he hadn't left in what feels like forever.

Even though some streetlights are harsh, it's different outside. So different when rather than bouncing around among itself, trapped within tight halls, the light scatters off into nothingness. No, not nothingness. Just darkness, the space inbetween lights. Something that everything is nestled within, everything together. Filled with faint noises of the world, occasional cars going by, and more. Turning to look up, so much more space stretching beyond, so many more pieces of light beyond, occasionally dipping in and out from behind sparse clouds. Cool air filling his lungs, slipping across exposed skin, a connecting tether.

As Gordon sits back on the bench, Benry startles and whips his head around to face him, Gordon flinching slightly at Benry's jumpiness, a familiar tension in the way he holds himself at the ready. After a silent few moments of green eyes locked with faintly-glowing yellow ones, Gordon lets out a quiet, nervous-yet-amused chuckle, setting the bag between them and focusing on uncapping his water. Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

Benry takes a moment to even start moving again, frozen less by Gordon looking ready to fight and more by what happened after, rolling the moment around in his brain and trying to take it in. Staring down at his own bottle, thumb running across the ridges of the cap, repeating that moment in his mind. Gordon has flinched from him. But, Gordon had _laughed_. Strained, but a laugh, and they're both still sitting together on this bench.

Benry knows they can't stay like this forever, together in a quiet moment only interspersed by the rustling of plastics. It's not much, but is still so much more than he would have thought possible recently. But it still happened. He's sure that they won't get to be like this again for a long time. But, if this moment of peace can occur, then at least there's something left to build off of and nurture, no matter how deep it's buried.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a while working on this, couldn't get myself around to it for a few months, then recently got back and finished it up. Lost some of my original feel for it in the meantime, so if some parts of this seem a bit mismatched, that's why ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Bonus song: [Smash Thru by nelward (feat. Adron)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiwHcEF2kiI)


End file.
